I'm a Doctor, Not a Walking OneShot
by Three Faint Calls
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on the famous 'I'm a doctor' line. I'm a Doctor, Not a Vulcan now posted!
1. I'm a Doctor, Not a Fashion Critic

A/N: Wow, thank you so much for all your suggestions! I am going to have so much fun writing all of these! I especially loved this suggestion from elektralyte, so I decided to post it first…since there are so many requests, these will probably be shorter in the future. This one takes place at the Academy, but the location will change from story to story. But anyways, hope you all enjoy this one, and keep suggesting!

I'm a Doctor, Not a Fashion Critic

Leonard "Bones" McCoy was looking forward to having some rest after a day full of work at the Academy. He had a hot cup of coffee from the replicator, a good book, and a comfy chair to sit in. Everything was perfect. But just as he was getting comfy, the door flew open, and in ran Jim Kirk, looking panicked.

"For Pete's sake, would you knock before entering?" Bones asked, annoyed.

"Who's Pete?" Jim replied, confused.

Without waiting for an answer, he held up two shirts, one light blue and one black, then said,

"Which one should I wear?"

Bones stared at him, exasperated.

"Why does it matter?" he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Because I've got a date tonight, and I need to look sexy for my lady!" Jim replied, grinning.

"Which lady might this be?" Bones asked, and then realized he wasn't in the mood to hear about Jim's sixth girlfriend of the week.

"Never mind, just wear the black one. Everything looks good with black," Bones said reasonably.

"Are you sure? You don't think I should wear the blue? Would it look better with my jeans?" Jim asked anxiously.

"Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a fashion critic!" Bones snapped.

And with those words, he was catapulted into a whole other universe.

_Women in pencil skirts and ruffled blouses bustled about the large office, straightening piles of fashion magazines and picking fabric swatches off the floor. A man in a pinstriped suit arranged a rack of samples from a famous designers fall collection, while several people milled about by the doors, glancing at their watches every few seconds._

"_Where the hell is Leonard? He was supposed to be here thirteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds ago!" one of the men said, looking flustered._

_Just then, the doors opened, and in stepped the most fashionable man on the planet, Leonard McCoy. He was wearing a shimmering lime green vest over a peach sorbet colored button-down shirt, and his carefully pressed white pants were so bright several people blinked. His bowler hat and bow tie were a pale, lavender shade and his shoes were the same color green as his vest. He looked magnificent, as usual._

"_No fear, my darlings, I am here! Sorry I'm late; I was busy putting together this FIERCE outfit!" Leonard announced._

"_It is very fierce," agreed the man in the pinstriped suit. _

"_What have you got for me today, Marcus?" Leonard asked, and the man picked up a stack of photos._

_Leonard was a world-famous fashion critic, and his style magazine, Bones, featured the most popular hot-or-not column in the world. Each week, they decided which celebrities had good style…and which celebrities did not. If you were put on the hot list, your career skyrocketed. If you were put on the not list, your career was basically over. _

"_What do you think of this outfit, Leonard?" the man asked, holding up a picture of a curvaceous, attractive woman at the premiere of "Space is the Place: A Movie About Space."_

"_She looks like an elephant dipped into a vat of red silk. That color is all wrong on her, and that hemline is all awful. It makes her hips look a mile wide. Definitely on the not list," Leonard said._

"_What about this one?" the man asked, holding up a picture of teenage celebrity, Alexis Texas._

"_Adorbs! That shade of blue brings out the lighter tones in her eyes. Hot list foshizzle!" Leonard declared._

"Bones!" Jim shouted, and Bones found himself back in his cabin.

Wearing normal clothes, _thank God_!

"Sorry, zoned out there," Bones said.

"That's OK. So, black shirt?" Jim asked.

"No, go with the other one. That shade of blue brings out the lighter tones in your eyes," Bones told him.

And so Jim wore the blue shirt. Needless to say, his date went quite well.


	2. I'm a Doctor, Not a Waitress

A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for your reviews and suggestions for future one-shots! I would like to make stories out of all of them, but I don't think time will permit me to do so. I have written down all of your suggestions so far, along with your usernames, so, unless you submitted a suggestion anonymously, I will send you a message when your suggestion is turned into a story. A lot of people have given me more than one suggestion, which is fine, but I probably won't be able to do more than one person. Also, I'm kind of swamped right now, so I can't accept any more suggestions for the time being. Now, here is a story that was requested by DiscoUnicorn. Enjoy!

I'm a Doctor, Not a Waitress

Leonard "Bones" McCoy was beginning to feel rather sick of being on the Enterprise. Not sick in a physical way, although if that was the case, he would be feeling better in no time due to the large amount of vaccines he stored in his abnormally large pockets. But no, it was more of a mental sickness. He was tired of everyone always wanting something from him; when he wasn't in Sick Bay, catering to everyone's needs, he was being asked to do something like teach Chekov how to pronounce V sounds. Bones found himself one the bridge, and for a second wondered how he had got there, then remembered Kirk had asked him to come up.

"Bones! Just the man I wanted to see!" Kirk said dramatically, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Did you need something?" Bones asked crankily, not returning the grin.

Smiling made him feel like someone had put hooks in the corners of his mouth and pulled up, painfully. He only did it for special occasions, like when his mother wanted a family portrait, or when Kirk had made an ass out of himself.

"Yeah. Could you get me a cup of coffee from the replicator?" Kirk asked.

"You made me walk all the way here to ask me _that_? You can get one of your minions to do it, can't you?" Bones said, trying very hard to control his temper.

"You are one of my minions," Kirk reminded him.

"But I'm an officer as well, aren't I? I am Chief Medical Officer, thank you very much, and I do not get coffee for anyone except myself!" Bones roared, "and my mother, too," he added as an afterthought.

"Pweeze, Bones?" Kirk asked, making Bambi eyes.

"Give me one reason why I should, other than the fact that you're making adorable Bambi eyes at me." Bones said.

"Because that lousy coffee tastes better when you get it for me," Kirk told him.

"Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a waitress!" Bones shouted, then stalked off to get the coffee.

On the way there, he made an angry face and thought angry thoughts, such as: I hate that damn Kirk with his adorable Bambi eyes and higher ranking. He makes it impossible for me to say no! I'm not the waitress from the Dairy-Rite Diner in Mississippi, but he makes me feel like I am! I wish I could just beam one of them up here, and they could get him his coffee!

Suddenly, Bones imagined himself back at the Dairy-Rite. Although he hadn't been there in over ten years, he could still picture everything. The checkered floor, and gaudy red and silver booths and bar stools. The vintage Coca-Cola glasses used only for serving it's namesake lined up on the wall behind the counter. The only thing that wasn't right was…Bones was wearing a waitresses outfit: a short, white dress, red knee socks, and white high heeled shoes. It was supposed to look like something from the 1950s, but it just made whoever was wearing it look like a prostitute. Or, in Bones' case, a drag queen.

"Hey, dolly!" a scruffy, older man called out, "Could I get a refill on this milkshake?"

Bones looked around, but there didn't seem to be anyone else around. Could the man not tell that he was a MAN?

"Um, OK," Bones replied, taking the man's glass.

"How's the love life?" the man asked conversationally.

"What?" Bones said, confused.

So, this man didn't understand that Bones was a man who had somehow ended up trapped in his own imagination (and a waitress outfit, no less!) and now he wanted to discuss his _love life_? What the hell was going on?

"C'mon, dolly, I know you have a boyfriend. With a pretty face like that, there's no way you couldn't!" the man said, winking conspiratorially.

"Please stop calling me dolly," Bones said, feeling nauseous.

This man thought he was _pretty_? If he had known Bones was a man, it would have been less strange. After all, Kirk hit on Bones all the time, and Bones thought nothing of it. Then again, Kirk hit on pretty much everyone, so…they were all kind of used to it. But the fact that this man thought Bones was a woman was just…creepy.

"Dolly's your name! Did you forget?" the man asked.

"I think I need a glass of water," Bones said, and then ran out the door.

When he got outside, he found that he was actually back on the Enterprise, and in his regular clothing. He was also standing in front of the replicator, so he grabbed a cup and commanded the device to fill it with half coffee, and half prune juice.

"Let's see how Captain Kirk likes that!" Bones said to himself.

Then he cackled evilly.


	3. I'm a Doctor, Not a Stripper

A/N: Sorry about the long wait! I meant to update sooner, but I was at the beach. Since this one has gotten the most requests (besides babysitter, which I'll write next) I decided to post it tonight. I would really love to take every request, but I just don't have the time, so please just browse through the requests people have already made, because it may have already been submitted. I will let you all know when requests are open again…until then, enjoy this story written for Darth Gilthoron, Cap Streeter, Josette, Lunar Eclipse, & Carrie. Stripper name suggested by Cap Streeter!

I'm a Doctor, Not a Stripper

Leonard "Bones" McCoy did not like to loan out his clothing. Especially not to Jim Kirk, because knowing that son of a bitch, he'd probably steal the shirt or belt or whatever and pretend he had no idea what Bones was talking about. But because Jim was his best friend at Star Fleet, he continued to let him borrow things. And slowly, his supply of normal clothing had been whittled down to almost nothing. Hell, Jim had probably doubled his wardrobe since he met Bones.

"Hey, Bones?" Jim asked in the voice he normally used when he wanted something.

It was a guilty, nervous sounding voice, but it didn't fool Bones. He knew that Jim had no problem asking for things.

"What?" Bones replied, sighing with exasperation.

"Can I borrow that shirt you're wearing for my date tonight?" Jim asked, this time with little shame.

"No. And don't try the Bambi eyes on me, it won't work!" Bones told him.

On cue, Jim widened his baby blue eyes and pouted his lower lip. It was pathetic, but it got Bones every time.

"Damn it. Fine, you son of a…" Bones mumbled angrily, glaring at Jim.

"You're my hero, Bones!" Jim announced, his tone sarcastic, but appreciative.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you leave or turn around while I change?" Bones asked.

"Why? You have a problem with me watching you change?" Jim asked innocently.

"Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a stripper!" Bones yelled.

"More like, 'I'm a prude, not a doctor!'" Jim retorted, but turned around anyway.

While Bones was changing shirts, he began to think about what his life would be like if he was a stripper. And perhaps he got a little carried away…

The club was packed, and smelled like cigarette smoke, alcohol, and suntan lotion. Bones surveyed the crowd; just as he suspected, it was all men. And an uncomfortable looking bunch of women who were probably there for a bachelorette party. He was surprised to see them. It wasn't a gay strip club, but strangely enough, there weren't very many women who wanted to watch men strip out uniforms. It was like YMCA, taken to the extreme.

Then the music started, and Bones recognized it as "Toxic." It was an old song, but a good one…to strip to. Out on that stage, he wasn't Bones from Mississippi anymore; he was Dr. Feelgood. And boy, did that crowd love him. As soon as he took off his shirt, they went wild. He threw it out into the sea of people, and saw one of the few women there catch it. She stared at it blankly, and then looked up to see him wink at her. Blushing, she set the shirt in her lap.

The only bad thing about being a male stripper was that none of his friends knew that this was how he spent his nights. They all assumed he had night classes at the Academy or something…and he dreaded that they might find out where he really went. But for now, he pushed that thought aside and continued dancing. Everything was going well until he heard his real name being called. Straining his eyes to see in the dark club, Bones tried to find who was yelling at him.

It was Jim.

Suddenly, Bones found himself face to face with Jim in real life. He was still wearing his shirt, and not "sexy scrubs" as he had been in the club. Jim looked amused, and Bones wondered why. Perhaps he had been making a funny face while he was daydreaming?

"Shirt?" Jim reminded him.

"Right, sorry," Bones said, peeling it off and handing it to Jim.

"Thanks man," Jim said.

"You're welcome. Have fun," Bones told him, sounding slightly fatherly.

Jim nodded, and turned to leave.

"Hey, Bones?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Bones replied.

Jim smirked, then said,

"Nice dance moves."


	4. I'm a Doctor, Not a Babysitter

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time! My computer is acting up, and won't let me do anything. Right now, I am using a WordPad program, which doesn't translate as well as Word documents, so if it gets all messed up, please don't blame me! Please note that I am not taking any new suggestions, as my hands are full with the many I have already recieved! I hope you enjoy this one, requested by...Leila Wahtson, Christina TM, Raspeberries Vanilla (who actually suggested two other things, but I wove them into the story), & MmmBones. EDIT: Sorry about the child mix-up! I was kind of out of it when I wrote this...so it got all weird.

I'm a Doctor, Not a Babysitter

Leonard "Bones" McCoy would do anything for his best friend, Jim Kirk. Except sacrifice a rabbit, eat hard boiled eggs, hit a woman, or tap dance. Well, OK, there were a lot of things he definitely wouldn't do. But he made up for it by putting up with Jim's stupid crap, and listening to him bitch about how hard it was to be captain of the Enterprise. Bones often felt like yelling at him,

"I WENT THROUGH A DIVORCE, MY WIFE TOOK MY MONEY, AND MY HOUSE, AND I HAVE AVIAPHOBIA! AND MY JOB IS TO MAKE SICK PEOPLE WELL AGAIN WHEN ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SHOUT ORDERS AT PEOPLE! SO, DEAL WITH IT!"

But he never did. He patiently waited until Jim's rant was over, nodding occasionally, and then offered him some tea from the replicator. Because he was a southern gentleman, and that's how you do things in the south.

"Oh, and if looking so hot everyday, and trying to run this damn thing wasn't enough work, I have to babysit Spock and Uhura's child!" Jim finished.

"Wait, what?" Bones asked, confused.

"Well, it's not really their child. It's the child of Ensign Wells and his wife, Ensign White. Uhura's been taking care of it today, so they can get some rest. Between work and feeding junior every thirty minutes, they're both exhausted. And Uhura's trying to convince Spock that they should have children." Jim said, smiling slightly.

Bones snorted, amused at the idea of Spock being a father. He could just picture that pointy eared bastard trying to teach the kid trigonometry as soon as he turned one.

"Good luck," Bones muttered.

"Yeah, I know. But here's the thing. Uhura has to get back to work, and I can't laze about all day, and since you're on break...could you watch the little munchkin?" Jim asked.

"Damn it, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a babysitter!" Bones spluttered, but Jim had already thrust a sleeping baby into his arms.

"Where did he even come from?" Bones asked.

"He came from between Ensign White's le-" Jim began matter of factly.

"No, you idiot! I know where he originally came from, I mean where was he before you put him into my unwilling arms?" Bones said angrily, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the child.

"Oh, he was sleeping in your chair while we were talking. I gave him some chocolate milk, played him some classical music, and he just conked right out!" Jim replied.

"Dumb ass! Babies aren't supposed to have chocolate milk!" Bones hissed.

"Well, you obviously know more about them than I do, so who better to watch the little guy?" Jim asked, shrugging.

Before Bones could retort, Jim had made it to the door. He waved, and then ran out, clearly relieved to be rid of the child.

"Damn it!" Bones swore quietly, setting the baby down on his bed. "I have work to do! I can't watch this...this...adorable little bundle of joy!"

He sat down on the chair and tried to think of who he could pawn the child off on.

"I'm a doctor, not a babysitter!" he repeated to himself, annoyed.

But before his mind could switch gears, he found himself in a brightly colored room with toys scattered all over the floor. Two children, toddlers by the looks of them, sat on the ground, one playing with a toy truck, the other reading some kind of book. The first had short blond hair that stuck out in every direction, the other had a rather peculiar pudding bowl-type hair cut. They looked very familiar, Bones thought, and then it hit him. It was young Jim and Spock!

"Rawr, I'm going to run over you with a truck!" Jim yelled, holding the truck up in the air like it was a sceptre.

"Would you please lower your voice? I am trying to concentrate on my advanced math activity book," Spock replied in a calm, but firm voice.

Bones grinned. They hadn't changed much.

"Hey, let's play jungle gym!" Jim said, and took a running leap onto Bones' back.

"Ouch, damn it!" Bones yelped.

"That's a bad word. Mommy says so," Jim told him reproachfully.

"Yeah, well, too bad! I'm a doctor, not a jungle gym!" Bones replied.

"Mr. McCoy, what is 2947374793847987957839739794 times 29380984098309830830984?" Spock asked.

"Uh..." Bones began, baffled.

"Nevermind, I've already figured it out!" Spock said cheerfully, penciling in the answer.

"I'm tired. I think I'm going to take a nap and dream of sexy women giving me a massage!" Jim announced.

OK, Bones thought, he has not changed one bit.

"Well, that's disturbing," Bones said, but Jim had already fallen asleep with his head resting on Bones' knee.

"Damn it! I'm a doctor, not a pillow!" Bones growled.

Just as soon as the vision had started, it stopped. And left Bones absolutely terrified. Just then, the door opened and in walked the child's parents.

"Sorry about leaving you with him," Ensign Wells said.

"Oh, that's OK. He was no trouble," Bones replied.

"You know, I bet you'd make a real great dad!" Ensign White exclaimed, as Bones picked up the still-sleeping baby and handed him back to his mother.

Bones laughed nervously as they left.

"I'm never having children."


	5. I'm a Doctor, Not an Advice Columnist

A/N: This is for LunarEclipse! Sorry about the wait…my Word program isn't working at home, so I haven't been able to post very much to this website. I hope you like this one-shot!

I'm a Doctor, Not an Advice Columnist

Leonard "Bones" McCoy was sick of everyone asking him for advice. If he had a dollar for every time someone wanted his opinion, he would have been a very rich man. It wasn't even breakfast time yet, but Kirk and Uhura had already asked him for advice on two issues. Kirk wanted to know which cologne he should wear that day (Vanilla Dream had sounded like a dessert and Tropical Island smelled like woman's perfume, so Bones had told him to go with the very masculine Lumberjack) and Uhura wanted to know if she should wear her hair up or down when she had dinner with Spock that night. Bones really didn't give a damn either way; Kirk's colognes all smelled weird anyways, and Uhura was so beautiful that how she wore her hair hardly mattered.

"I'm a doctor, not an advice columnist! I don't even get paid to tell them what I think," Bones grumbled.

He pictured himself in a dark, somewhat depressing office, lit by a singular lamp. It illuminated the old wooden furniture that cluttered the space, and made it possible for him to read the stack of letters on the desk. They were all from people with small problems who seemed to have a knack for turning a molehill into a mountain. Take the most recent one he had received for example:

_Dear Mr. McCoy,_

_Last month I found out that the woman I was engaged to had been sleeping with my best friend. I still love both of them very much, but I don't know if I can forgive them. Should I give either of them a second chance, or should I move on?_

_From,_

_Heartbroken in New Hampshire_

Bones stared at the letter, thought for a moment, and then put pen to paper.

_Heartbroken,_

_You really got screwed over, didn't you? Well, quit whining and go tell your so-called friend and ex-girlfriend to soak their heads. And then go get drunk._

_All the best,_

_Leonard McCoy_

That looked pretty good. The next letter looked like it had been written by a girl in middle school, judging by how all the I's were dotted with little hearts.

_Dear Mr. McCoy,_

_So, I really like this boy. And I finally told him. He said he likes me, too, but he has a girlfriend. What should I do? Does he really like me, or is he being a player?_

_Confused in Chicago_

Well, that seemed like an easy one to figure out to Bones, but he wrote her back anyways.

_Confused,_

_He is clearly head over heels in love with you. Now all you have to do is make sure his girlfriend gets salmonella, or another potentially fatal disease, and he'll be all yours!_

_All the best,_

_Leonard McCoy_

That ought to solve that problem.

_Dear Mr. McCoy,_

_I am auditioning for a dance production, and I'm really worried that I won't get in. I'm a good dancer, but everyone else that's auditioning has been dancing a lot longer than I have. I'm in college, and I'm afraid that if I don't get a move on now, I'll be too old to get into any dance companies. Should I try out?_

_Nervous Ballerina_

Bones thought about that one for a second. Did dance productions have directors? Probably.

_Ballerina,_

_If you want to be in this production, you can't rely on skill alone. Find out who is in charge of picking dancers for the show, and then sleep with him. If it's not a him, then buy her lots of nice stuff. Bribery and adultery are always the best ways to ensure you are accepted._

_All the best,_

_Leonard McCoy_

His advice was superior to those sorry saps in the other papers that would have said things like, "just believe in yourself!" or "listen to your heart!"

What a load of rubbish. He glanced at the next letter.

_Dear Mr. McCoy,_

_My daughter has been hanging out with the "bad crowd" at school, and I'm worried that they may be using illegal substances. I have talked to her with my husband, and she denies this. Yet when she comes home, sometimes several hours after school lets out, she stinks of stale beer and cigarette smoke. What should I do?_

_Worried Mother_

Good golly, she was uptight!

_Worried Mother,_

_I suggest you stop poking around in your daughters business! It's her life, and she can live it however she likes! If she's doing something illegal, that's her problem, not yours. Give it a rest._

_All the best,_

_Leonard McCoy_

Suddenly, Bones found himself back on the Enterprise, with Kirk standing in front of him.

"Bones?" he asked.

"Yes?" Bones replied.

"I want to ask this girl in engineering out. What should I say?" Kirk asked.

Bones opened his mouth, about to tell him, then changed his mind.

"If you want my advice, it's going to cost you twenty bucks."


	6. I'm a Doctor, Not a Vulcan

A/N: The Bones one-shots are back! After a very long hiatus where I had no computer to type these up on, I have returned and now possess my very own laptop, so I will be updating much more frequently! Here is I'm a Doctor, Not a Vulcan for Sehlat Whisperer & cai-ann! Now I only have 50 more of these to write. Hope you enjoy it!

Bones was angry at the world, as usual. It came as no surprise to him (or anyone else, for that matter) that Spock was the main reason behind his foul mood. Perhaps he really was only trying to help, as he had said, but he had no right to go and meddle in the affairs of sick bay! That was the one place on the whole damn ship where Bones had complete authority, and that green-blooded hobgoblin was determined to make him look like an ass.

Admittedly he had made the wrong diagnoses, and he already felt stupid about it, but trust Spock to be there the one time he confused a common cold with a slightly more dangerous type of flu. The second before Bones injected the patient, Spock raised an eyebrow so high that it nearly touched his fringe of black hair and said,

"Pardon me, doctor, but I believe that you have confused his symptoms with that of another virus. May I respectfully suggest that you re-diagnose him?"

Bones set the syringe down, realizing that if he held onto it, there was a strong chance that he might stab Spock in the throat with it's sharp tip.

"You may suggest it, sure, but may I _respectfully_ suggest you jump in a lake?" he asked.

"I will ignore that suggestion, because as far as I know, there are no lakes aboard the Enterprise, nor are there any in our current vicinity. If it would please you, I will check our coordinates to make certain of this, but-" Spock began.

"Good God, man! That was meant as an insult! It meant, 'take your opinion elsewhere', not 'stay and debate the possibilities of lakes in space'!" Bones shouted.

"Doctor, I meant no offense. But if you review his symptoms, you will see that my suggestion is only logical." Spock said coolly, his expression revealing nothing but his tone indicating that he was annoyed.

"Damn it Spock, I'm a doctor, not a Vulcan!" Bones seethed, reaching for the correct syringe.

He injected it with more force than was necessary, and his patient let out a yelp that he hardly noticed, for he was already envisioning himself looking into the mirror and finding a Vulcan staring back at him. His brown hair was gone, replaced by a black, aerodynamic haircut with well trimmed bangs. Instead of his normal eyebrows, he had two sharp, diagonal lines on his forehead. And his ears were pointed like one of the characters from the ancient book about the wizard and the oompa-loompas!

"Here we go again," he thought to himself, but when he tried to say it out loud, it became, "I suppose I am to embark on yet another mental wandering."

Well, that was just dandy. Now he was starting to talk like a Vulcan as well. Turning from the mirror, he saw Jim staring at him curiously.

"Spock, I didn't know Vulcan's practiced vanity," Jim said.

"It is part of the Vulcan way of life to admire one's appearance for at least one hour per day," Bones replied, smiling to himself.

It was entertaining to think of how the real Spock would explain that to Jim, but then Bones realized this wasn't really happening. After all, he was going to "wake up" from this sometime. He always did, in the end. But how long would he have to endure being stuck in Spock's body before that happened?

"Oh. Well, have fun with that." Jim said, a bemused expression on his face.

He left the room, and in walked Uhura. She smiled at him, and then, much to his surprise, kissed him softly.

"Uhura, what are you-" Bones began, and then remembered that Spock and Uhura were together.

However, since telling her, "Sorry, I'm not actually Spock, I'm Bones. I'm just inhabiting his body until whenever I wake up from this strange daydream, but I'm sure he'll be back soon enough," would make no sense at all, he had to just go along with it.

"I mean, Nyota. You look well." Bones said, hoping it sounded like something Spock would say.

"Thank you, Spock. As do you." Uhura whispered, kissing him again.

Actually, pretending he was Spock wasn't so bad after all. Maybe he would remain in this daydream for a while longer than usual…no, he couldn't do that. Bones may have hated Spock's guts, but he still wasn't going to get friendly with his woman, even if it wasn't in real life.

"Nyota, I must leave. I have some quadratic equations I must complete immediately." Bones announced, before running out of the room.

He felt a bit bad about leaving her there, but he would feel worse if anything else happened and Spock found out about it. Imagine finding out your girlfriend was having a fantasy affair! It was almost worse than a real life affair, in his opinion, because in a fantasy affair you could get together with anyone! Instead of settling for an average Joe, you could have sex with movie stars or models or whoever you wanted.

"Maybe I should have more fantasy affairs," Bones thought to himself.

As he considered this possibility, he came upon a cluster of cadets laughing heartily at something. He thought it might concern what he had told Jim earlier, and asked,

"What is so humorous?"

"A joke I told, sir," one of the cadets answered, trying to keep the smile off his face.

"May I hear it?" Bones asked.

"It's stupid," the cadet said hastily.

"I doubt that," Bones told him.

"Well…OK. How many people does it take to get a Vulcan to laugh?" the cadet asked.

"I do not know," Bones replied.

"Just one, but it'll take six bottles of wine and three sessions with a hypnotist." The cadet finished, although he did not laugh this time.

He was probably afraid that he would be reprimanded. But that would only happen if Bones actually was Spock, and he wasn't, so he began to laugh. The joke itself was poor, but the situation in which he was hearing it was so odd, he couldn't help but lapse into a fit of mirth.

"Doctor, are you all right?" a voice asked.

Bones looked around and saw that he was back in the sick bay. He also realized that he had been laughing maniacally for quite some time, and everyone was staring at him. Damn it.

"I've just remembered a joke someone told me earlier," Bones said loudly, so that all could hear.

"May I hear it?" Spock asked.

"You wouldn't think it was funny," Bones assured him.

"I have little doubt that you are right, doctor. I am going back to the Bridge now," Spock said.

"Good riddance," Bones muttered as he walked away.

Then he remembered something important.

"Spock!" Bones called.

"Yes, doctor?" Spock replied.

"You may want to ask Uhura about any fantasy affairs she's having."

A/N 2: I know Bones would never confuse a regular cold with a dangerous flu, but that was the only way I could think of to introduce the Bones-as-a-Vulcan scenario. Also, I obviously made up that lousy joke between the cadets and I sincerely apologize for how lame it was.


End file.
